A Reason
by You2rKillingMe
Summary: Sequel to What's Ours, which has not yet reached its end. Happens after they moved out and got a place together. Rated M as always. Reviews are appreciated.
1. This

**Okay. I got caught up in the future and don't want to wait any longer. What's Ours hasn't in anyway finished, and I'll continue writing it. In the mean time, enjoy. And please, plleeesssseeeee review, even just to say you didn't like my work. I appreciate every review whether good or bad so please leave your reviews. Thanks.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless.**

* * *

**1. This**

Penny was sitting on the couch in her second floor apartment watching TV when she heard someone struggling to open the door across the hall. Thinking it was her bad-tempered tattooed-knuckled neighbor, she decided to go lend a hand and might as well annoy him in the process.

To her surprise, the person she saw wasn't the grubby, crude, yet kind of handsome guy she had learned to put up with for a couple of months but a red-headed guy she had never seen before. The said guy was carrying two big duffel bags, wearing combat trousers and a dark tank top, looking tall and smart and attractive and all. Frankly, she would definitely ask him out if he wasn't busy trying to break into her neighbor's apartment.

"Who are you? And what are you doing?" She asked as well as gave him a spiteful look in an attempt to scare the good-looking person who might also be a thief.

"Trying to get into my apartment," he replied blatantly, still unable to unlock the door.

"You don't live here. I've never seen you before, and I've lived here for over two months. Also, that right there is the apartment of the most cantankerous guy I've ever had the honor to know, and as far as I'm aware of, he doesn't have a roommate." She said with the fiercest voice she had, hoping to intimidate him, but failed miserably.

"Well, you're looking at one." He said without turning to look at her. "I'm Ian," continued the redheaded person as he finally got the pig-headed door opened.

"Penny." Her eyes changed from glaring daggers to a questioning look, not trusting his words. "You sure you are his roommate and not some burglar? 'Cause I've seen him knock out a guy once, and believe me when I say you don't wanna get on his nerves."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Ian glanced back at her once before he walked into the apartment. The girl looked slightly older than him, around Lip's age maybe. Any straight guy would have described her as attractive, with bright blue eyes, dreamy blonde hair and well-proportioned body. But what did he know? He wasn't into girls.

"Why haven't I ever seen you before?" She continued asking in a tone that should be reserved for interrogating a murder suspect while studying him from head to toe and back again.

"Well, I've been in a boot camp for, like, three months. I go to West Point, you know. Would you like to come in?" Ian was in his usual amiability as always despite her hostility towards him.

"Sure. I've always wondered what it looks like behind that door. Mickey never let me look inside, let alone inviting me in." She said, taking in the scene as they both walked into the hardly furnished apartment. The living room/kitchen was small, with scraped wallpapers and a worn-looking set of furniture. The couch was right next to the front door and there was a small coffee table in the little space between it and the flat screen. How come the TV looked so pricey while other stuffs looked like they were at the end of their distressing, pitiful lives was beyond her understanding.

"I'm kinda surprised you know his name. He's hardly the kind of person that introduces himself." Ian commented back, dropping his bags onto the small gap between the couch and the stools near the kitchen counter.

"Actually, he helped me get rid of my ex-boyfriend when he got physical on me one night. Well, not in the conventional sort of help, more like he inadvertently bumped into the jerk while he was pinning me to a wall and when the jackass opened his mouth to say something, the very next thing I knew was that the bastard was lying unconscious on the floor. That was when I figured he might be kind of a nice person, even though he acted like I didn't exist during the first week I moved in." She explained, sweeping her eyes around the room for a decent place she could sit. She was more open now that she was pretty sure Ian was telling the truth.

"That sounds more like the Mickey I know." Ian rolled his eyes as if Mickey was there. "Hey, you want a drink or something?" He said as he walked into the kitchen part of the room and then opened the fridge. There was nothing much besides beer and Jell-O, which made Ian wonder how Mickey had survived this whole time he wasn't around.

"A beer would be nice." She replied while deciding whether to sit on the couch or the stool. They chitchatted a little before Penny asked, "What's the deal with you two? No offense, but I can't imagine him living harmoniously with the likes of you. You seemed kind, and easygoing, and everything he is not."

"Well. . . " He was trying to come up with an answer while handing her a beer and sat on the lumpy beaten-up couch when an earsplitting voice from the other side of the door interrupted his train of thought.

"Gallagher, come get this fucking door opened."

Ian hastily put down his beer and rushed to open the door. He was surprised when he saw his roommate carrying two big bags full of groceries that he didn't catch what he was telling him at the moment.

"A little help?" Mickey said in annoyance. Ian took the bags from him and Mickey was going to close the door when he saw his across-the-hall neighbor sitting on their stool with a smug glow of self-satisfaction.

"The hell is she doing in here?" Mickey asked, staring at the girl. If he was annoyed before, now he was simply infuriated.

"Getting to know my delightful neighbor. Unlike you, he is kindhearted and dreamy." Penny answered with a mocking smile. "You never mentioned to me once that you have a roommate."

"'Cause it's none of your goddamn fucking business." He retorted while maintaining his sullen glare at his prying neighbor.

"Why can't you be nicer to her? She thought I was a burglar and tried to prevent me from breaking in. She was looking out for you, you know? It's good to have someone like her around." Ian commented while putting the stuffs Mickey bought into the fridge.

"Just because I accidentally knocked off your prick of a boyfriend doesn't mean you can stick your nose in and meddle with my life." Mickey grumbled, still staring at her. She didn't flinch at all.

"Okay, I'll go. Thanks for the beer, Ian." Penny said as she walked out, narrowing her eyes and sticking her tongue out at Mickey, and then kind of slammed the door behind him a little.

"I'm really serious about being nicer to her, you know?" Even with the unfriendliness Mickey was showing, Ian could tell they got along well at times. The girl seemed pleasant and considerate. And judging from her reaction, she knew that under Mickey's thick layer of facade, he had a very big heart on the inside. It was weird knowing that someone else other than him and his family saw through Mickey's public image, but it was in a good way. It was also good to know that someone had been keeping Mickey's company. He didn't miss the way she looked at him, with her eyes glittering, her lips slightly parted and many other signals that suggested she had a crush for him. Ian would be so jealous if it weren't for her to be a female.

"Shut up." His agitated boyfriend stated gruffly. Yes, boyfriend. Mickey had never admitted to it, but that was exactly what he was now, his boyfriend. And Ian had never said it out loud for Mickey to hear either, knowing he couldn't be with his much-loved boyfriend if the said person was to kill him with Jell-O in his sleep, or worse, he might never talk to him again.

Ian didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before, but he finally got a hint why Mickey seemed to be very aggravated by the fact that Penny was there. Telling him to shut up was kind of Mickey's de facto way of saying they should be fucking already. There wasn't a single word said after that as they proceeded into their tiny bedroom, hitting the floor and some walls while trying to take each other's clothes off along the short path. They took their time to go at it twice before they switched and had another meaningful round. After that, they just collapsed limbless onto their worn but comfortable single bed and fell asleep bundled up in an intermingled heap with Mickey on top of (and still inside) Ian.

* * *

Next morning, Ian was the one who woke up first. He hadn't moved a bit because he liked the feeling of Mickey snoring into his collarbone too much. But then Mickey was awake too, like he could tell the difference between Ian's breathings even though he was technically still asleep.

"What's the plan for today?" asked Ian, looking down at Mickey although all he saw was Mickey's thick, messy, black hair.

"The fuck do you think? I bought tons of food." was Mickey's reply, his voice still clogged up with sleep. He then pulled out, which earned a miniature protest from Ian, and crawled up on him, pressing his chin into Ian's shoulder and burying his face into the pillow. Ian's arms automatically readjusted to wrap around the newly repositioned Mickey.

They spent their lazy moment lying like that until Ian felt Mickey's stomach growling. They then turned their heads and met each other's eyes. Mickey was irritated as hell when he realized that they had to get out of bed and find something to shove down their throats at some point. Ian rolled his eyes knowingly as well as smiled at the older guy, making an attempt to make it out of the bed, but then stopped when he realized Mickey wasn't in anyway moving. Mickey was still lying on top of him, pinning him down with his full weight.

"Don't. Fucking. Move." Mickey said, word by word. "I'm not that hungry." He then saw Ian smiling his ever-classic shit-eating grin, which made him add, "When I feel like getting up, you'll know. 'Cause I'll kick your ass outta bed to make me food." Satisfied, Mickey smirked at Ian's scowl.

Ian then rolled his eyes again and gave Mickey the 'Well, are you a saint or what?' look before he sank back into the pillow. His eyes slipped shut as he let out a captivating noise and then said, "This is nice." with a blissful smile across his face.

"What is?" Mickey looked at him with a curious expression.

"This," he answered, waving his arms around them with his eyes still closed. He then opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully. Ian wanted to say that he felt so heavenly wonderful right now, that the moment was perfect being together in their own home, that he never wanted to be away from Mickey even for a split second, that he could imagine them lying like this forever, feeling their hearts beating against each other. But he didn't know how to phrase it such that it wouldn't ruin their moment.

Mickey fixed him with a funny look, trying to work out what Ian was thinking, before saying, "Why must you always make things all touchy-feely?" Then he tucked closer into Ian, like that was even possible, and smirked into Ian's jaw. He wanted to tell Gallagher that there was nothing he'd rather do than lying there with him on their crappy mattress in their shoebox apartment, where nothing in the fucking world could butt in and mess with what they had, but he couldn't. He hated that he couldn't bring himself to say what was it he wanted to say. But it was fine, because he knew Ian could hear it nonetheless. Gallagher was somehow psychic when it came to reading what he was thinking. Besides, it would probably be too confusing to Gallagher for him to go that far off his own character anyway.

Ian huffed quietly, holding back the urge to roll his eyes. He never imagined he could be in such immense contentment in his life. He wanted to tell Mickey just that, but again, he didn't want to spoil their sweet moment. When he looked into Mickey's eyes, he was pretty sure Mickey was thinking the same. "Yeah," he muttered back. He was happy. They were happy. They had each other, someone they could count on, someone who understood, someone who knew them better than they knew themselves.

Someone to enjoy life with.

It was nothing special. Just a simple day at home with the two of them enjoying each other's presence, enjoying their existence, but he'd never been happier.

They sauntered out to the living room after a while, still naked because neither of them bothered to put on clothes when they both knew every single piece of fabric was going to come off again very soon. They ended up eating somewhat-burnt bacons and funny-looking eggs because Ian got distracted by Mickey's throbbing dick that was nudging against his ass while he was making their brunch in their small, sad excuse for a kitchen.

When they finished their food, Ian threw himself onto Mickey and they played fighting for a while, which was brutal as hell, before trying to suck each other's tongue out of the other's head.

"You didn't bring out a condom with you," Mickey mumbled in his moan as Ian switched to biting his neck.

"I don't think we need that anymore." Ian said in one breath. "I had myself tested, Mick. I'm clean of everything. And besides, we exchange blood all the time so it doesn't matter anyway."

The make out continued for another while when Mickey pulled away and said, "For the record, I'm clean too." Ian was surprised when he heard that.

"Really? When did you take the test?" Ian's face broke into a cheek-splitting grin.

"After I let that skank suck me off." Mickey muttered into the crook of the younger guy's neck.

"And you didn't tell me until today? It would have saved us a lot of time and money, you know." Ian said with a laugh before beginning his attack on Mickey's ear.

"Hate the thought of your jizz spurting inside my ass." Mickey deadpanned.

Ian rolled his eyes for the tenth time that day before he said, "We suck each other off a hell lot of times. I'm sure if you can take it in your mouth, then you can take it in your ass. So, was that a yes?" and then resumed his action.

Mickey didn't say anything. He just pulled Ian's head off his ear and locked their lips together.

"But sadly, we do need some lube." Ian said apologetically as they paused to gasp for air.

Again, Mickey didn't say anything. He just wiped his hand on his brunch plate that was still left sitting on the coffee table and coated Ian's dick with his greasy fingers. Mickey then wrapped his legs around the younger guy's thighs and, without further ado, Ian pushed balls deep inside him.

The kissing continued and although Ian wanted very much to thrust in and out of Mickey ever so slowly because he wanted it to last, Mickey didn't let him. Mickey never let him go slow, not once. He wasn't sure why, because Mickey almost always went slow on him. It didn't make any sense. Those thoughts faded away quickly as the tightness and the heat of Mickey's never failed to make his breath stutter each and every thrust. Their arms were locked around each other, their fingers burying into flesh as their tongues battled.

Ian rolled his hips as he continued hitting that spot inside Mickey repeatedly, which made Mickey's back arch involuntarily as they moaned lustily into each other's mouths. The expression on their faces could only be described as one of rapture and it was one of the expressions Mickey hated Ian seeing, but considering their eyes were closed more often than not and the pleasure that came with it was dreadfully fan-fucking-tastic, the fact that Ian succeeded in bringing it out every time was more than acceptable.

Ian caught Mickey's moan of release in his mouth, sucking in Mickey's tongue deeper as he felt Mickey's hot and sticky come squirt up between their chests. He came a thrust later when Mickey's muscles twitched around him. Mickey never fucked bareback before, and Ian's seed spurting inside him made him regret not letting Ian do it sooner. They fell breathing heavily against each other's mouths, both of them too dazed to remember how to kiss.

Mickey laughed a bit when Ian repositioned his arms to wrap around his neck while trying not to pull his dick out of his ass. "Fuck, firecrotch." Mickey muttered as he tilted his head to look at Ian, with his voice incredibly low and husky, so deliciously perfect just as Ian loved it.

That was when he got stunned by the sight of Ian as he was by far the most gorgeous thing he had ever witnessed in his life. Ian was resting his chin on his collarbone, smiling bright sunshine and locking his marvelous eyes at Mickey's own.

About five minutes later, they were at it again. Except this time, Ian got up to straddle Mickey and licked his way down from his jaw to his nipple which sent shivered all over Mickey's body. He then began grinding his dick against Mickey's own and Mickey smirked up at him.

"Ready for another round?" Ian growled out, satisfied when he looked down and saw that Mickey's dick was back to being hard again.

Mickey nodded wordlessly because he couldn't even talk, he was trying to brace himself for what was to come. Ian coated Mickey with the grease from his dish and didn't even give any signal before he pushed all the way down that Mickey was balls deep inside his ass. Mickey didn't know what to expect because they'd never been in this position before, with Mickey laying on his back and Ian riding him. It was like he was top and bottom at the same time, which was weird, but in a brilliant way that was.

Ian's hands were on Mickey's sweat-coated chest, taking in the scene of his stunning Mickey, as he started moving slowly up and down Mickey's dick. Mickey grabbed Ian's hips firmly and helped Ian move as they got lost in the sea of pleasure. "Fuck, Gallagher." Mickey groaned, rolling his hips, making Ian almost forget how to breathe as he slammed down.

"You like it, huh?" Ian said after gaining back his sense, with a smile that should be illegal. Mickey looked up at Ian who was looking back at him so peacefully, then shook his head a bit and let his gaze go down to focus on the younger guy's dick that was standing proud in the air for him to see, trying hard not to be spellbound by his eyes.

Mickey couldn't help but let their eyes meet again a few thrust later, but instead of trying to fight it, Mickey tightened his grip on Ian's hips and jerked his hips up in the same time as he slammed Ian down.

"Fuck!" Ian growled out, biting his bottom lip, but still smiling. How he could manage to do that was outside Mickey's comprehension. Mickey continued his action of hitting Ian's sweet spot as he felt his orgasm creeping up within him. Ian's eyes grew wide as white come spurted out from his dick into the damp air that was surrounding them.

Mickey came when Ian slammed down to his base once more and the feeling of Ian's tight ass contracting around him was mind-boggling. Ian flopped down on Mickey, letting their legs tangled as they were catching up on their breath. Mickey coming inside him was everything he thought it would be and more. Damn those condoms!

They looked into each other's eyes before Ian nuzzled his face against Mickey's. The funny thing was that most of his Ian's come landed on Mickey's face and Mickey let out a laugh when he saw that Ian's cheek was now covered with his own jizz.

Ian didn't think about it at first but his laughter came out when he realized what the stickiness on his and Mickey's faces was. With a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he reached down between their bodies to collect Mickey's come from the previous round, before wiping it on his face and then nuzzled Mickey face again with his jizz-coated own, satisfied with the expression Mickey was making as it was the cutest thing ever. It made Ian wonder for the zillionth time what he had done to deserve this dazzling, breathtaking person in front of him. No matter what it was, he didn't care. He intended to be with Mickey forever, and nothing could prevent him from doing so.

Mickey's face scrunched up at that eerie action. It was fucking weird. Who on earth does that? He thought, before their eyes met once again. He tilted his head a little as he tried to decipher what Ian was thinking. A few second later, he realized Gallagher thought he was cute. Cute!? He was about to smack Ian but changed his mind and kissed him instead.

They fell asleep like that for a short while before someone began knocking on the door. If there was a gun nearby, Ian would have grabbed it and shot through the wooden door without even asking.

"Ian, Mickey, open up." It was Mandy. Ian didn't bother waking Mickey up because he knew Mickey could sleep through practically any disrupting sound. A devious thought came to his mind in that moment when he decided to reach out from the couch to open the door, still naked with Mickey's dick inside his ass.

There wasn't any word that could describe the look on Mandy's and Lip's faces as the door swung opened and they saw their beloved brothers lying in all their glory birthday suits, their bodies pressing against each other with suspicious substance on their faces.

Mickey was awaken not by the sound of Mandy yelling or Lip screaming out indistinct words, but by the tremble he felt from Ian laughing his insides out. Mickey was confused when he opened his eyes and saw Ian snickering with his eyes looking past over his head in the direction of their front door. Still straining to see, he propped himself along with Ian up a bit and tilted his head back to see what was going on. That was when he saw his inverted sister blushing so hard he thought blood was going to seep through her face and, very close to that, a nauseated Lip was looking green about the gills.

He felt his dick getting hard due to the fact that Ian's ass was jerking it up and down, squeezing it as he laughed, and his could feel that Ian, too, was getting hard by rubbing against his abs repeatedly.

"The hell were you thinking?" He said as he looked back at Ian, trying to scowl but failed because right then, he was hysterically laughing his lungs out too.

"What were you guys doing?" Mandy said as she reluctantly came into the apartment, dragging a queasy Lip in with her as she quickly shut the door behind before anyone else could see them.

"You mean it isn't obvious enough?" Ian replies as he got up and eased Mickey out, revealing his and Mickey's semi's.

When they saw that, Lip just fell flat face-plant the floor as he regretted not being blind for the nth time and Mandy started yelling again. "I don't need to see that, ever!" She then got their blanket from the bedroom and threw it over their lower body parts.

"Well, you said 'open up'." Ian said, shifting back slightly as Mickey was sitting up.

Mickey rubbed his eyes and stretched the sleepiness out of him, then he groggily asked, "The fuck are you doing here, douchebags?"

Mandy just glared daggers at her best friend and her dear brother, narrowing her eyes, which looked really scary given all the make-up she was wearing. "Lip has some business to do in town and we knew you went home last night, so we thought we would drop by to say hi. We didn't know you two are gonna be this horny." She said and then went back into the bedroom and started throwing their clothes at them, which mostly landed in their faces or on their heads.

Ian lifted his legs up as he put his boxers on and Mickey grunted in annoyance when Ian took his boxers from his head and tried to put them on him, ignoring the fact that the two of them were still covered with come and sweat and saliva and grease and some other unidentifiable fluid as the mess could wait until later. Mandy rolled her eyes once more as she settled her ass on the chair by the counter.

"You can open your eyes now, Lip." Ian said when he was done clothing both him and Mickey, rolling his eyes at his brother. "Stop making a big deal out of it. I'm your brother, and you've seen Mickey naked plenty of times."

"Seeing either of you naked alone doesn't bother me at all. But you two naked together doing god knows what, that I cannot see. And I hate having my eyes every time that happens. It isn't worth the trauma, you know. I really think I'm gonna need counseling after this one." The oldest guy said, still lying on the floor as he turned his face in their direction and gradually opened his eyes, with his brows furrowed and his mouth twisted from the scene he just witnessed.

"I know I'm gonna regret asking this but what is that patchy thing on your face?" He said, scrunching his face at Mickey.

"Your brother's jizz." Mickey answered bluntly and scratched it off like it was a very accustomed thing to do. A dark smirk grew on his face as Lip was acting like he was going to be sick, again, which made Ian let out another laugh.

Things seemed to fall back to normal after that. Lip took a seat next to Mickey on the couch and they started shooting virtual people into numerous piles of virtual flesh and blood. Ian was also on the couch, leaning back against Mickey with his knees on the arm of the couch, resting his head on Mickey's shoulder catching up with Mandy who was still sitting on the stool next to his feet.


	2. Sacrifice

**2. Sacrifice**

"So, how have my best friend been?" Mandy asked, looking relaxed and sounding casual, maybe a bit too casual for Mickey as he seemed really annoyed. He didn't retort or anything, but Ian could tell by the palpable exasperation that was radiating out from him. The cramped couch in their crummy apartment wasn't big enough for his brother to sit comfortably far from them. Lip refused to be near either of them within a one-foot radius, frightened of what he might come into contact with if part of him accidentally touched them. They still hadn't been sanitized yet.

"Great. New York's good, a bit too crowded, but good. West Point's good. The training is tough and demanding but it is worth it. They taught me how to fight effectively, let me use all kind of weapons, and I made a lot of friends in there. The bad thing is that I have to lodge there. Frankly, that three-month-long boot camp really made me think I was gonna die of sex deprivation. But the good news is, starting now, I get to come home every weekend, and I'll make damn sure it counts. It'll be like a weekly fucking hornymoon for us." The last sentence earned a snicker from Mickey.

"I'm right here!" Lip remonstrated, which fell to deaf ears.

"Oh, that reminds me. Do you want condoms? 'Cause we've got, like, tons of them, and they all just got released from active duty today. I would hate to see them go to waste." Ian said, widening his patented grin, if that was possible.

Lip massaged his temple, a massive headache was just around the corner. The action made Mickey smack him for taking his eyes off the game in the course of a matter-of-life-and-death situation.

There was a vociferously loud AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGH during which Lip jerked away from Mickey and his head ran into the wall with an audible bang. Ian quickly spun around and climbed over Mickey's lap to see if his brother was okay.

"Don't touch me! I know where your hands have been." Lip shouted in addition to rolling off the couch and stumbling to the corner of the room beside the flat screen.

"Don't you think you are a bit overreacting? You've touched much grosser things in your life."

"Yeah, but you are my brother, and he's my friend. The idea of you two fucking each other's brain out gives me intense distaste and aversion."

"That's nonsense. You used to be with the very person that sucks every penis in the south side, including mine and Mickey's, and yet you kissed her without a second thought." Ian was glad Lip referred to Mickey as his friend. Mickey, on the other hand, was glaring a hole in Lip's skull. He could feel it.

"Ian, please don't bring that up, ever again. I don't care if you're my best friend and future brother-in-law, I will slap the shit out of you for ruining my libido." Lip's face fell, knowing he wouldn't be getting any for a while. "And go take a shower, both of you!"

Mickey turned to give his sister a frown. He knew she still wasn't sure if she was going to marry Lip, and that could only mean. . . Fuck. He started to remember that his sister and his fuckbuddy talked about fucking everything, and that probably meant they talked about marriage, too. Again, fuck! His blood ran cold as he was starting to realize that there was a chance of Gallagher proposing to him someday.

While Mickey was staring blankly at Mandy with a look that could easily wither cacti, Ian took the opportunity to mold himself around him, comically using Mickey as a shield to protect himself from Mandy's wrath, still sitting on his lap. Mickey then snapped out of his thought and the Milkovichs exchanged the aren't-the-Gallaghers-just-insane-or-what look before Mickey not so gently made an effort to detached himself from the clinging limpet that was Ian, but ended up dragging him along as he walked to the bathroom. A hedonistic and very passionate Ian was very hard to disengage these days.

"You know you just gave them an excuse for another round right?" Lip uttered quietly, looking at his girlfriend with sad eyes. "And you also ruin my chance of depurating myself."

Mandy couldn't help but roll her eyes at her deflated boyfriend.

* * *

They went out after a dreadfully long shower. Mandy insisted she and Lip took them out for dinner, saying she saw a lovely place on the way to their apartment. Ian couldn't stop smiling. If someone ever told him back when he first fucked Mickey the two of them would be living happily together like this, he would have sent that someone to a looney bin.

Mickey seemed happy too, well, happier than usual, but an exhilarated Mickey never lasted long, except when there were just him and Ian of course. When the four of them arrived at the said place, Mickey abruptly stopped at the entrance and stared at the name of the restaurant, which caused Ian to bump into him.

"Why stop?" Ian asked, but got no reply whatsoever. Cocking his head to the side, he studied Mickey with sturdy green eyes. Ian had seen that unreadable expression on Mickey's face before. He was racking his brain trying to figure out something.

The name somehow sounded familiar, Mickey didn't know why. How could a name of a restaurant irritate him this much? He gave it some thought, but with Mandy pulling and Ian pushing him, he had no choice but to get in.

They sat at a table near a fireplace, ready to order, when an all too familiar vexatious voice called his name from behind. "Mickey! Can't believe you came. Ian, nice to see you. Do you know how many times I've asked him to try the food here?" Even though New York had a plethora of restaurants and every single one of them seemed more viable as well as more edible than this one, his sister, for a reason that was not known or specified, managed to pick out the one that had his pesky hell of a neighbor as a waitress. Of course it was Penny. That was why the name itched like crazy.

"Hey, Penny, nice to see you too. Didn't know you work here?" Ian chirped, a smile on his face. "Guys, this is Penny, our across-the-hall neighbor." He said that just in time before Mandy could ask her famous who-the-fuck-is-she question. "Penny, this is Mickey's sister, Mandy, and my brother, Lip."

"Oh, hi. I'm Penny. So, do you guys live here in New York or just come for a visit from Chicago?" She asked enthusiastically.

"How do you know we are from Chicago?" Mickey narrowed his eyes.

"Ian told me of course. Unlike you, he is nice." She was very skilled when it came to sarcasm.

"Don't you have a fucking job to do?"

"Um, yeah, I'm waiting your table right now."

"Yes, and you are doing a very nice job. Now, what do you recommend?"

"Thank you, Ian." She turned to beam her immaculate smile at her nice neighbor.

* * *

"She seems like a nice girl." was a comment from Lip after Penny took their orders and went back into the kitchen.

"Close your mouth. You are drooling." Ian rolled his eyes. "It is never wise to lay eyes on another girl when your current girlfriend is trying to incinerate you with her gaze."

Lip's eyes snapped back to an enraged Mandy before he swiftly looked away, afraid he might have a case of spontaneous human combustion should he continued locking gaze with her. "So. . . Mickey, what've you been up to?"

"Nice save, genius." Mandy rolled her eyes. "And by the way, he, and by he I meant my hell of a brother, has a better shot at banging her than you do."

"Not much," replied Mickey.

"Come on. What do you do all day?" demanded Lip.

"Sleeping," deadpanned Mickey.

"Mickey's a bouncer at a nightclub." Ian decided to cut in. "A rather famous one actually, and everyone, especially the owner, loves him to death as he makes the number of fights approach zero, saving them a lot of fortune. That's why our place has a flat screen." Mickey was gripping at his thighs hard as the proud look on Ian's face were really begging to be punched, or kissed, he didn't know anymore.

"Never thought your temper can be put in good use, assface." Mandy snidely remarked.

"If you make good money, why don't you find a better place to live?" The oldest guy inquired.

"With Gallagher making, like, six hundred bucks a month and the cheap ass paying me stupid electronic craps, I don't think so. Besides, I like our shabby apartment."

Ian blinked, once, twice, thrice. Mickey was still there. He tried pinching himself, and surprisingly, it hurt. He wasn't dreaming. Mickey really said he liked their little home. Mickey glanced at him, maybe regretting the words in the process. "He lives in it only two days a week, and it would be cruel if we were to get a bigger place considering he would be the one who had to fucking clean it." Ian smiled at that lame excuse.

"Awww, that's so sweet, Mick." Only Ian fucking Gallagher could interpret that as a considerate thought. He also had the nerve to owlishly blink at him. If they weren't in such a public place with many witnesses, that would be a good time to shove his tongue into that smiley mouth and really fuck the optimism out of him afterwards.

Mickey intended never in his life to admit to it, but he liked their wee apartment because it gave him a good alleged reason for cramming up with Gallagher. And judging from the look on Gallagher's face, he liked it too. If Mickey didn't know any better, he would have thought that Ian was going to rip his clothes off and fuck him right there in front of a whole lot of people. He could see it in his eyes.

Their foods arrived with some agreeable remarks from their lovely waitress/neighbor who would have given Ian a weird look when she saw that his eyes were locked to Mickey's face the whole time if she wasn't distracted by a salivating Lip staring at her. Mickey could try all he wanted to repeatedly kick him under the table to make him stop grinning at him like an idiot, but this might be the closest thing to a dinner date as he would get and he was determined to savor every moment of it.

"Gotta piss." was all Mickey had to say after finishing his main course and then he stormed towards the men's room. Mickey was very surprised when two strong hands grabbed him from behind and forcefully pulled him into a bathroom stall just as soon as he finished and then a mouth started to suck the tongue out of his head.

"The fuck are you doing?" Mickey shoved a horny Ian away.

"Trying to fuck you, obviously." The younger guy replied bluntly and then attacked his neck.

"What part of 'Gotta piss' makes you think it was a green light to fuck me?" Mickey would have made a much better case if he didn't accidentally let out a lusty moan.

"This part." Ian said, grabbing Mickey's apparent hard-on with one hand while the other was unbuckling his belt. How could Mickey ever say no to that?

A minute went by before they got rid of all the fabric that was blocking their way of fucking. As soon as that happened, Ian spun Mickey around and pushed balls deep into his ass, then he just stopped.

Mickey turned to look at him, his asshole was burning from the friction. The realization that he forgot to at least spit on his hand and coat Ian's dick with his saliva came to him a bit too late. Ian gritting his teeth and gripping his hips hard enough to bruise suggested Ian's dick must be burning too. "Finish what you started, firecrotch, or I'll finish you off."

Ian didn't react beyond twisting his mouth with his eyes tight shut. Mickey didn't want to resort to this but screwed it, his prostate needed this. "I'll fuck you while your cock heals."

That was all it took for Ian's eyes to go wide open and stare salaciously at Mickey, his expression like a stoned wildcat that was just about to maul its prey. He then started pounding rapidly in and out of Mickey, didn't even try to pace it. To his credit, his dick felt like it was on fire, but the pleasure was sure to compensate the pain. Maybe Mickey referred to him as firecrotch for a reason after all, as there were a lot of 'Fuck, firecrotch' coming from the older guy.

Ian really did know him way too well for his liking, Mickey thought. How else could Ian manage to slam home every single time? It was like Ian's dick and his prostate were stupidly drawn towards each other by some magnetic force. If Mickey wasn't certain before, he was truly confirmed now that he, without any doubt, liked being bottom.

They didn't last long as it was about two hours since they last fucked. They almost finished when someone opened the men's room door and forgot to bring a piercing scream out with him, or her, that voice was about an octave too high to be a man's voice. Ian biting his neck at the same time as his sweet spot was slammed was what sent Mickey over the edge and Mickey's wall tightening around Ian definitely milked him for all he was worth.

Ian slowly pulled out before Mickey turned around and sat him on the shockingly clean toilet, still panting. Mickey kissed him as well as wiped some tears out of the corners of his eyes before crouching down between his legs. "You better be serious about being top 'cause my cock will be out of order for at least a week."

"Your sacrifice will not be forgotten." Mickey said with a raspy voice that almost made Ian hard again before tenderly nibbled Ian's worn dick with his lips once. Then he gazed up and met Ian's eyes, with his mouth dramatically slowly turning into a malicious smirk. Ian swallowed at the sight of that.

* * *

It was an oh-no-they-didn't shituation for Mandy. Wondering why the bathroom trip took so long, she sent her boyfriend to check on them. A shrieking sound came from the direction Lip went as a forewarning before a chaotic anarchy occurred afterwards.

She quickly rushed to the scene where many women were running out from the lady's room screaming there were some pervert vomiting in there. She got in and found out it was none but her boyfriend who was freaking the shit out of innocent people.

After Lip's main course was flushed down the toilet, Mandy helped him up and heaved him out. "I think I already know the answer but I'm gonna ask anyway. What the hell happened in the five seconds you left?"

"They. . . they were. . ." A terrified Lip tried to explain but words just wouldn't come out.

"We were what?" Mickey asked, walking out of the men's room with Ian wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"You were-" The oldest guy had to let his eager stomach content come out before he could finish. Those poor flowers didn't even know what hit them.

"Hope you guys had a fucking blast. Now I have to force-feed him again." Mandy rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that day.

"I did, and will continue to do so as soon as we get back to our-" Ian got elbowed by Mickey for that and Ian feigned fainting, dropping all his weight to Mickey.

"Don't be ridiculous." It was now Mickey's turn to roll his eyes.

"But I'm hurt and you said you will take care of me." Mickey really considered getting a new brain for finding a pouting Ian endearing. Well, a fierce, fervent, controlling, hardcore Ian was certainly the ideal person by whom he wanted to be fucked, but there was no other person in this entire universe he would rather fuck more than a sweet-tempered, childish, whiny, puerile Ian before him.

Mickey tried his damnedest to hide his sore ass while Ian proudly hobbled to their table like he just came back from a freaking warzone.

"Oh my god, what happened? Why are you walking funny?" Penny asked and helped Ian with his chair.

"Bathroom injury. Don't ask. Very embarassing." Ian replied.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"Don't worry. I will be more than fine," as soon as they got home and Mickey started fucking him like there was no tomorrow. He might take a week off, if not dropped off West Point altogether.


	3. Warmth

**3. Warmth**

It all started off with a severe snowstorm which took out the entirety of New York population. . .

At least that was what he theorized must be the case, considering there was absolutely no indication of any human being save for them, or any life form for that matter. Even the plants appeared to have given up and expired at some point in the course of the night.

He woke up that day, staggered to discover what seemed to be the heaviest blizzard of the century right outside their bedside window. He was confident of it because regardless of how much he narrowed his eyes and wished for heat vision, he couldn't spot a damn thing behind the awful lot of snow that was flurrying exterior to their bedroom. It was a complete whiteout.

While trying not to panic, he slowly unfastened himself from the fatally unyielding encirclement of his debatably agreeable companion, terrified of what might occur if the said individual woke up and bellyached and he would have to imminently do a horrible deed to him as it was the only way to terminate his own exasperation, which was terribly likely to result in himself leaving all alone in this godforsaken, dilapidated frozen planet.

Sauntering and shivering butt-naked into the living room presuming their loyal TV could bestow him some explanation as to what the hell was going on, his ill-equipped for an apocalyptic incident self supposed it was a good thing they had bought approximately ten tons of food the previous day because they were sure to be stuck inside their minuscule apartment for god knew how long as the streets were buried deep in a cosmic quantity of white and it unquestionably would take weeks before any rescue team knew there were survivors left in this underprivileged side of the city.

He curled up in a tight ball on the couch, watching the news channel's maddening pain in the ass divulging that nearly every commonsensical person in New York had departed south since yesterday's forewarning. Which warning? How come he wasn't aware of any of it? The government should not regard itself as giving a warning if its reach didn't incorporate a couple of citizens who had lost their consciousness due to numerous remorseless rounds of vigorous fucking.

"Mickey, what are you doing up in the middle of the night?" A mushily throaty voice inquired. Its owner was gradually emerging out of the bedroom, comfortably cocooned in their warm blanket.

"It's almost noon." Mickey asserted in an uproariously composed manner, glancing at his gullibly delectable Ian a bit before his eyes snapped back to the flat screen.

"It's still dark outside." Ian turned to squint out the kitchen window, then walked towards it at a snail's pace and reached his hand out.

"Don't!"

* * *

They curled up in a tight ball on their bed, insulated from the unsympathetic wintry weather by the majority of the clothes they possessed. The living room/kitchen was proved uninhabitable at the moment owing to the snow Ian managed to allow into their dwelling prior to Mickey's breakneck reaction.

"I'm sorry I created a fridge out of our apartment." Ian's words warranted puckered brows from Mickey. "Let me make us dinner."

"The fuck are you waiting for? I'm starving." Mickey uttered that while gnashing his teeth and squeezing Ian tighter. Talk about a contradiction.

"I'll be back soon, I promise." The younger guy spoke softly, kissed his dearly loved Mickey once and got off the bed.

It took a combination of two jackets, a parka, two pairs of pants and jeans, a pair of combat shoes, half a dozen gloves and mittens, and three scarves to protect Ian from the arctic precinct that was formerly their kitchen. Crestfallen by his futile attempt to plough the snow out using a pancake flipper, he now concentrated on thawing some eggs and a loaf of bread to make French toasts.

"Are you trying to trap a freaking penguin out there? Just grab the microwave and a few packs of frozen food then get your ass in here." Mickey shouted through the bedroom door, which made Ian curse at his ice-cold brain for not coming up with that idea in the first place.

They sat on the bedroom floor looking at the spinning plate glowing in front of them. Mickey, who still couldn't bother with putting on clothes, swaddled himself in an armor of blankets while Ian nestled him from behind with all his limbs. By the time their foods were done, Ian was already out of his clothes and in the blankets with Mickey, squashing the older guy in a massive hug.

He couldn't justify himself for letting Gallagher snuggle him like this but it felt. . . nice. He felt so cozy and warm and relaxed and, as much as he hated to acknowledge it, loved. He still couldn't figure out how firecrotch was able to make such a simple act so special but he found it impossible not to fall for him, not that he hadn't all these years. Thank god Gallagher couldn't read his mind. His life would be really difficult if Ian decided to hold on to him and never let go. But then again he wouldn't mind that, not in the slightest.

Ian tried his hardest to moderate his grin as his cheek was really starting to hurt. He didn't know if Mickey knew this, but the only place he had ever felt truly safe and peaceful was around Mickey. To the rest of the world, oh, screw the rest of the world. In fact, the world could go fuck itself and he wouldn't even care. Anyone else, including their family, was sure not to realize that Mickey could be fantastically affectionate when it came to him. Like now while they were eating, Mickey would lean back when he nuzzled him, push his head away from time to time to steal his bite, smirk at him with food in his mouth when he succeeded, pull a funny face when he responded with a kiss, and shove food in his mouth to make him stop laughing, he wouldn't trade any of that for the universe. He didn't know what he had done to deserve all this but he certainly wouldn't give it up, not in his lifetime.

If he could have it his way, they would stay like this forever.

A hand started toying with his nipples, followed by another grabbing onto his dick as soon as the food was gone. Then a raucously crooked voice whispered to him, "Fuck me."

Mickey turned sideways to narrow his eyes at Ian. "Make me."

Ian smiled cunningly as he relocated himself and claimed his position on Mickey's lap, securing him with his arms and legs. He then slumped to the floor on his back, hauling the older guy down with him in a mesmerizing bodily embrace, and began sucking his face while kneading their crotches together compulsively.

Mickey slid his arms under Ian's shoulder blades, lifted him up, and drove them towards the bed so that Ian's back rested against it. Then he picked the younger guy up by the ass and settled them on the mattress, not breaking their kiss at any point in the process.

After Ian coated him with some lube from the nightstand, Mickey positioned them and then leisurely pushed inside, taking pleasure from the luscious sound of Ian's moan. He had to admit fucking while being wrapped in blankets felt strangely good even though they couldn't move as freely as they normally could have.

"Oh, Mick, I-"

"I know this goes without saying, but if you say those words again, I'll reduce you to Jell-O."

Ian just beamed at him and said, "I love you, Mick." His smile grew even wider as Mickey narrowed his eyes. "That being said, I'm sure I'll make your fine Jell-O."

He loved Mickey, that was the fact, and judging from those deep, soul-crushing blue eyes that were looking into his, there was no doubt Mickey loved him too.

And for the record, Ian did make Mickey's excellent Jell-O.


	4. Choice

**4. Choice**

It was dark.

That was what it was. The blankets were not thick enough to protect them from the assault of a particularly chilly weather, so all sort of clothes they could find were covering them from head to toe. It wasn't by any means their radiator's fault. It could perform its job just fine but its masters simply ignored it.

Ian was woken up from his snug, peaceful slumber by some banging on their front door, with Mickey sprawled in his embrace on top of him, his head buried into the pillow and their cheeks pressed together as usual. Not sure since when, but it had sort of become their thing. Well, it was either this or Mickey would sleep on his back with Ian snuggling up his side, mostly on top of him, with Ian's face nestled into the crook of his neck.

He slowly removed the layers of fabric that were blocking his vision, letting his eyes gradually adjust to the brightness of the day. The stormed had stopped and the sky was brighter with some light snow falling outside their window.

"Wake up, Mick." He spoke into Mickey's ear and playfully nudged his nose into his boyfriend's cheek.

Mickey muttered something with his groggy morning voice, face still submerged in the pillow. Ian couldn't make out the words but it sounded something like "Go back to sleep or I will throw you out in the snow." and then Mickey yanked the covers back over their heads.

"There's someone at the door." Ian pointed out and yanked the covers down to their waists afterwards. "And I kinda have to piss."

Mickey growled and turned to meet Ian's annoyingly dreamy eyes. The most annoying thing about them was that he liked them.

Ian just beamed a drowsy grin at him. How could he not? He got to wake up to that sweet face. Damn West Point for letting him come home only two days a week. This was why Ian genuinely loved holidays.

Mickey growled again and sluggishly rolled to the side, cocking his head towards the bathroom.

After Ian went out of sight, the banging was getting louder and closer together and, as much he wanted to ignore it, Mickey couldn't help but feel the need to answer it and then bludgeon whosever head it was on the other side of the door. With that in his half-awake mind, he violently put on a pair of boxers that was conveniently on a bed post and shuffled a distance from the messy sheeted bed that was begging him not to leave.

An exceptionally irritated Mickey lumbered out of the bedroom, smoke perceptibly blowing out his ears when he finally opened the door. The moment it was unlocked, it swung open and a tight hug was thrown at him before he could react. "Mickey! Thank god you're home."

Lying on the cold puddled floor next to the couch, his eyes slowly moved sideways to glance at the person squeezing him. His killing aura was growing stronger and stronger every second as he tried to decide whether to go grab a machete and chop the person's head off or simply just twist the person's neck to avoid unnecessary bloodstain.

Luckily for the said person, a clunking sound had interrupted his train of thought. He tilted his head to look in the direction of the noise to discover that it was none other but his now-clothed fuckbuddy, standing in a pair of sweatpants and an unzipped hoodie, jaw hanging low and eyes staring in shock. "Wha- what's going on?"

Mickey let out a sigh of relief to hear the question. Gallagher probably hadn't breathed for a while judging by the shade his lips were turning. He didn't answer though, he had no idea what the hell was going on either. "Get the fuck off of me."

"Oh, sorry." Penny let go a little. "I'm so glad you guys are home. After they let me wait at the airport for forty-eight hours and then told me my flight got cancelled, I had to drag myself through the stormy weather back here to find out that my radiator broke. I tried to find a hotel but the ones I can afford are all closed. In fact, all the stores are closed and it's like everyone's gone due to the blizzard. So basically, I have no heat, no food, and no place to stay. I was cold and hungry and homeless and then I got really scared and didn't know what else to do so I knocked and knocked and kept knocking on your door, hoping to god you guys are still here. And you are!" Believe it or not, she said that in one breath, then she sobbed and hugged a cross-eyed Mickey again.

As much as Ian felt sorry for her, there was absolutely no reason as to why his neighbor should be cuddling with his almost naked boyfriend on the floor of their apartment. He tried to stay calm and walked towards them. Though he got to admit it was hard not to rush in, push Penny away, and fuck his Mickey right there in front of her.

"It's alright, Penny. You can stay with us." Now let go off my boyfriend before I tear you to pieces.

"Oh, Ian. Thank you." Ian was pulled by the neck into a group hug after those words.

"Get the fuck off of me." Mickey said again, venomously.

"Oops, sorry again." Penny let go of them and sat up on her calves, pushing her hair back a little to hide her embarrassment. She started to blush when she realized Mickey wasn't wearing any shirt. Her face got brighter as she studied the way Mickey's muscles flexed when he propped himself up on his elbows, his prominently sculpted chest moved up and down ever so gently as he breathed. She couldn't help but let her eyes wander down those abs most guys would kill for and nearly fainted when she saw a bulge in his boxers which were barely hanging on his hips, his legs lifted up a bit revealing his well-built thigh and part of his tight ass.

Ian was crouching by Mickey's side glaring at her when all of that happened. Penny's staring at Mickey's exposed form and thoroughly checking him out was making Ian feel really uncomfortable and fairly homicidal. Mickey was too busy frowning at him for giving her the invitation to stay to notice but Ian saw it all. He was about to do something he might regret later when Penny finally said, "Uh, it's not that I don't enjoy the view, Mickey, because I do, and I'm flattered that you're happy to see me. But isn't it a little too cold to be dressing like that?"

As Mickey turned to flash a glare of doom at her, Ian followed her line of sight. Silently, he freaked out and quickly got in front of Mickey to cover his boyfriend's apparent semi. He ended up sitting between Mickey's legs, his back bumped into the couch in the process. Unlike him, Mickey had fucked several girls. The fact that his boyfriend was turned on after being hugged by an attractive female who lived only across the hall just about gave him a panic attack.

Mickey wasn't sure why Ian was hyperventilating. It never happened before, ever. He didn't know the reason behind it nor the protocol to handle it. Slowly, he sat up, afraid to make any rapid movements. His eyes were fixed at his fuckbuddy, cocking his head to the side in a contemplative way.

Penny, on the other hand, found herself toying with her hair sheepishly. Now wasn't this just awkward? But hell, that was totally hot. She thought.

Losing his small amount of patient, Mickey grabbed Ian's head with his hands and forced the younger guy to look at him. The physical as well as eye contact seemed to calm Ian down to some extent. His eyes started to register Mickey's concerned gaze, and just like that, Ian was back to his normal self again.

For a moment, it was like they had a silent conversation, glancing at each other here and there to convey their thoughts.

Ian hinted at Mickey's crotch: 'Can't believe she gave you a boner.'

Mickey took a quick look at Ian's bare chest: 'This was your fault, you idiot.'

Ian raised his brows: 'How could it be my fault? I barely touched you.'

Mickey's eyes flicked to Ian's crotch: 'You are having a hard on, too.'

Ian's eyes followed Mickey's, his mouth gaping, then gawked back at Mickey: 'Oh, I didn't know that. But you're in only a pair of boxers and your smell is intoxicating. Who can resist that?'

Mickey smirked: 'You're an utter idiot. Now let's fuck.'

Ian grinned: 'Sounds good.' then glimpsed at Penny: 'Wait. What about her?'

Mickey narrowed his eyes: 'Screw her. She'll leave.'

Ian frowned, directing his eyes in her direction: 'From the way she was and still continues staring at you, there's a chance she might join us.'

Mickey smirked mockingly: 'The more, the merrier.'

Ian glared at him: 'Not funny!'

Mickey gritted his teeth: 'Don't you think I would have gone for a girl if I had a choice. Just fuck me already. Front, back, sideways, watched by her, on her, I don't give a damn.'

It made Ian's heart flutter knowing that Mickey was getting hard just by being around him (and not by Penny's cuddling). Mickey, on the contrary, wasn't too happy to see Ian grinning like a love-struck fool. Then the two of them turned to look at their tongue-tied neighbor whose face had now gotten as red as a fire truck. Hesitantly, Ian decided not to fuck Mickey in front of her, or blood might seep through her face and she might die.

"Uh. . . Penny. We kinda need a cold shower. Make yourself at home. Be right back." Ian said and the two of them quickly shifted their way into the shower.

Left alone, Penny reassembled her mentality bit by bit, fathoming about what Ian meant by 'they' needed 'a' cold shower.


	5. Request

I try not to think about 3x06. I mean, they just couldn't catch a break, could they? The kiss in 3x05 was long overdue, and I thought Terry was going to kill Ian in the promo. Turns out he was just calling a prostitute, but the look on Ian's face made me think he'd rather want to be killed than watching Mickey got raped. When did Mickey get this sloppy?

Another thing. I got so annoyed out of my mind when I learned that Mickey still didn't top even when he got his ass shot. And Ian didn't say a damn thing about it. Come on!

All in all, Ian should know that there is absolutely nothing wrong with asking, and Mickey sure should take more responsibility for a certain task.

**5. Request**

Insanity, Mickey reflected despairingly, really enjoyed his company, and did so with immense passion.

It was one thing that he had been stuck with this stupid, absurd, annoyingly optimistic maniac, probably for the rest of his fucking life (during which he wouldn't ever admit out loud that it wasn't against his will). But this? This fucking nonsense, he could not stand. And with supreme certainty he would make damn sure that firecrotch wouldn't bitch about this ever again.

[Flashback]

After a surprisingly brief shower, and, needless to say, some unavoidably extended rounds of fucking, the two of them rematerialized from their bedroom fully clad. Their neighbor's state of mind seemed to have recovered (not that he gave a fuck) and she was sitting on their couch (that he gave a slight fuck), watching their TV (the fuck he gave was growing) and eating their food (that he sure gave a goddamn big-ass fuck!).

"Welcome back, boys. Glad to see you guys dressed up properly. Hope you don't mind me making us dinner." She said smilingly, gesturing to a big bowl of some yucky slush on the coffee table. Apparently, she had taken it upon herself to raid their fridge. She then had the nerve to pat the cushion beside her as an invitation for them to sit on their own fucking couch! (The couch was mostly for fucking to be honest. In fact, every horizontal surface in their tattered apartment had been used as a fucking spot at least twice as of the very day.)

He was about to jump in and maim her when firecrotch locked an arm around his neck, steered him to the couch, hauled him down to a sitting position and simply shove a spoonful of whatever that slimy mud was into his mouth. "Not at all, Penny." Firecrotch was too polite for his own good.

Distracted by the shit-eating grin that was directed at his face, it took him over half a minute to realize that the food wasn't that bad despite its awful appearance. For all he knew, it probably was a failed attempt for spaghetti and/or gumbo, however, to his utmost surprise, that uncivilized chick could cook. Though not as good as firecrotch's cooking, it could still curdle his empty stomach and, without further ado, he gave in and started gobbling it. (To his credit, he was severely low on functioning brain cells. The last bj firecrotch gave him was very intense it used up every bit of strength in his body not to pass out. His brain almost malfunctioned for fuck's sake! It would take at least half an hour for his body to stop tingling, and more for his senses to recondition. Fuck, who would have thought firecrotch would become a certified professional dick sucker in the few years of blowing him. And he would be lying if he said he hadn't thanked every existing divine being that firecrotch had chosen him as his subject.)

Things were like that for a while. They were eating, and watching some shit on the news. Then followed slouching and chitchatting.

Then laughing.

Lots of laughing.

More shitchatting.

Until his ears threatened to fall off.

With all due honesty, he would have considered it a mercy if they had just brought out a gun and shot a big hole in his head.

Then he heard something about fixing and radiator. Next thing he knew, they were in the blond chick's apartment and firecrotch was trying (and undoubtedly failing) to repair a fucking unsophisticated piece of junk. There were lots of swearing, sighing and firecrotch cussing the damn machine for interfering with their fucking life (i.e., sex life).

Then it was all coming clear to him. All the time they could have used for fucking was wasted on the bitch that had fucking appeared out of nowhere and firecrotch was too kind to kick her out into the cold. He didn't recall much about what happened next but said bitch was thanking him for some reason shortly after that.

The last thing he remembered was being thrown to the bed and then it all went blank. His best guess was that his mind probably just shut itself down, leaving his spinal cord in control of his body for an indeterminate amount of time.

[End flashback]

And now firecrotch was moping.

Come to think of it, his vague mind started to remember being fucked and blown countless times by a ferocious creature that he supposed was firecrotch.

Okay, okay, those were outright lies. He remembered rather clearly about what happened. He just didn't want to admit that he had been acting like a mellow fucktard, all right?

Anyway, firecrotch was moping. WHY WAS HIS FUCKBUDDY MOPING WHEN THEY SHOULD BE FUCKING RIGHT THEN AND THERE? He mentally yelled, knowing firecrotch would probably hear it if he weren't too busy moping.

It wasn't even noon and he was already in a bad mood. Imagine how he felt waking up to an empty bed, dragged his sore (yet satisfied) ass to the bathroom, took a piss, washed his hands (he had some sense of hygiene, too, you know), yawned, blinked a few times, and then ran out to the living room when he realized firecrotch wasn't anywhere to be seen, only to find a naked body sprawling motionless on the couch.

His blue eyes glared into those green ones that were staring up right back at him. Those blank, emotionless, almost completely dead eyes. Firecrotch's gaze went straight through his exposed form. It would be much easier to continue the staring contest if firecrotch's arms and legs weren't spread so wide, looking so alluring with his body sunk back against that upholstered piece of furniture.

Dear fuck, firecrotch was gorgeous even while pretending to be dead. (Firecrotch could pretend all he wanted, but there was a certain part of him, namely his fire crotch, that couldn't be controlled whenever he was near him.)

Mickey felt his legs walking, his body being drawn, his hand reaching out to what used to be his enthusiastic fuckbuddy (and his own dick unavoidably getting hard).

And then he smacked Ian's head.

.oOo.

Ian was pissed. Sure, it had all been fun at first but, after a while, it just wasn't anymore. Then he felt dejected. That was why he went out to the living room and just sank himself into the couch, hoping his boyfriend would do something about the matter.

He was glad to see Mickey run out to look for him, even more so when that delicious dick greeted him. But then. . .

"Ow!" Ian cried, sitting up right. "The fuck was that for?" He ran a hand over his head, giving Mickey one of his best puppy glares, the one that looked like Mickey just cut his kidney out.

"You were moping. I tend to smack moping people out of their moping minds."

"I wasn't moping! Even if I was, I had a fucking reason for it." He shouted wholeheartedly. Anger erupted in him when Mickey acted indifferently.

"And what the fuck might that be?" His fuck of a boyfriend's twitching eye said he'd better had a good explanation.

The question stung, nonetheless. Mickey didn't even know what the fuck was wrong. "I just realized I'm living with a lazy dick!" Ian's words echoed in their small room for a brief while.

"What?" His boyfriend frowned. Goooood.

"You heard me. You are a lazy fucking dick, Mickey. You let me do all the work. I know you love being fucked and I love fucking you, as well as blowing you and other means that get you off. But my ass has an incessant need to be fucked regularly, too!" There, he finally said it out loud. And it felt great, really great. It was like all the frustration he had been keeping in for years had gotten off his chest. Don't get him wrong. He loved to top. He was always top before Mickey, but since the first time Mickey had topped him, damn, Mickey sure knew how to fuck. And he couldn't stress that enough.

"I fuck the fuck out of you on a regular fucking basis, too, firecrotch." Mickey narrowed his eyes.

"Of course, I'm fucking aware of that. But when was the last time you offered to fuck me? I have to ask you, persuade you, ride you, and even threaten the fuck out of you sometimes. It's just not fair." Ian punctuated the last sentence out of exasperation.

"Let me get this fucking straight. You are fucking mad at me for letting you ask to be fucked?"

"You got that right, you lazy dick." He didn't know how much time he had left to live his life as Mickey launched onto him with a sadistic smirk on his lips, straddling his hips, pressing their dicks together. He gulped, but at the same time, didn't hate the look on his boyfriend's face one bit.

"Mick-" He was cut off by a brutal kiss, then let out a moan when Mickey's hand wrapped around their throbbing hard-ons. Mickey was all over him, kissing, sucking, nipping, stroking, rubbing, grinding, and many more. But just as he felt his peak drawing near, it stopped. Mickey got off of him, grabbed his shoulders, and shoved him face-plant the couch cushion. He groaned as two fingers were inserted into his entrance without any form of lubrication, stretching him for what was to come.

He didn't know how Mickey managed to coat himself in such a short time but before he knew it, those fingers were gone and Mickey pushed ball-deep into him. He didn't have time to adjust, no, not after what he said earlier. His muffled scream of pleasure filled the room as Mickey pulled out and thrust back, hitting the sweet spot inside him until he felt like his body was about to explode with ecstasy. His own hands clutched the cushion for dear life as a hand wrapped around his weeping arousal, pumping him in time with those harsh and fast thrusts.

"Fuck, Mickey." He cried out as his completion was being drawn nearer by the double sensation. But then the hand that was supposed to milk him turned into a tight grip around his aching dick.

"I'm not letting you off that easy." His eyes widened at what he just heard, before the pounding stopped and he felt another hand move to stroke him, teasing around the head.

"Fuck, Mickey!" He cried out with the phantom orgasm, his hips jerked back and his hole tightened around Mickey sharply, hoping it would get some reaction.

"And you said you didn't like asking me to fuck you." His boyfriend's voice was vicious and he could imagine the smug smirk that came with it. His erection was becoming more and more painful being clamped around its base all the while the assault on the head had grown more and more unbearable.

"I don't!" He whimpered.

"Too bad." Mickey chuckled and then rolled his hips. He moaned as his prostate was nudged again.

"Fuck." He was admitting defeat, his body felt like it was about to shatter.

"What did you just say?"

"I said FUCK, Mickey! Or I swear I won't fuck you again!" He tried to growl, but it came out as a whine, pleading with defeat in his every syllable.

"And now you're threatening me. You might as well just fucking beg, you know. But okay."

Just like that, Mickey continued his thrusts, faster and harder than before, pounding his sweet prostate relentlessly as one hand moved back to support his hips and the other wrapped around him, thumbing over the head. Almost immediately, he came harder than he ever had in his life. His mind drifted to oblivion and every muscle in his body tensed when he felt a warm sensation squirting inside him.

He flopped bonelessly onto their trustworthy couch, panting harshly. Mickey pulled out and got up, leaving him slumping like melted hot butter that he was.

Mickey sure knew how to fuck, he reflected. And anger seemed to be a good fucking fuel. He must make sure to remind himself of that ever so often from now on.

All of his thoughts were cut off when two strong hands flipped him so that he was now lying on his back. He felt his thighs being spread and a warm body nestled between. Still panting, he opened his eyes and saw Mickey's blue lustful ones staring lewdly into his.

"You didn't think I was done yet, did you?" Mickey's voice was so husky and full of desire that he almost got hard in that instant.

"Fuck me." He felt his mouth morphed into a maniacal grin before it was captured by Mickey's own.

And Mickey went on fucking him for the rest of the snow day. Yeah, right. Ian loved being top, remember? So they took turns fucking each other. And if you were wondering, no, Ian didn't mind making a request to be fucked anymore, and, yes, it took a while before he learned how to walk properly with the more increased amount of soreness in his ass that never seemed to go away. No force in the universe could stop him from thanking Mickey for that.


End file.
